Sometimes I thought I wanted this to last forever. I never wanted to give up on this.
Then sometimes I wanted to give up on the lack of stability, it made me anxious. Sometimes the memories of the past were just too much to handle. A relationship built on 10 years, most of which were white lies and my complete denial.
Sometimes I wanted to leave the man who got frustrated too easily or who often doesn’t see the world the way I do, but I thought that would make me less then. Maybe not a good wife. I craved a simpler life, one without conflict or obligation or concessions. One where I did not have to give in on my own principles and morels.
Sometimes marriage is just too hard, too hard to see it through to the end.
This is a revelation that I have come to over the last thirteen weeks. This smiling woman who though it would last forever has come to terms with sometimes it’s just not meant to be.
I have had time over the last few weeks to take this in. I wanted to assign blame right away. I mean justifiable anger right? Clearly this is all his fault. I did everything I could and then some to try to make it work. I get to be mad, right? But here’s the thing. There are days where I feel hardened and jaded and often broken. On those days I have compassion to those in pain because I also suffer.
I thought about the whole blame thing too, I mean wars have been started on assigning blame. Real wars. But if it’s all his fault; I’m angry, I’m resentful. I open the possibility to compromise my sobriety, but if I make it my fault. Which is something I often do, I’m full of shame, guilt and remorse, then I’m just as venerable to compromising all I have worked for. I don’t get to be mad. Sometime shitty things just happen to good people. Sometimes the ones we love are sicker than us and we are required to have compassion.
What if we could just be in acceptance of what has been handed to us and work through emotions and actions as they come to you day by day? Easier said than done. I KNOW. But this has been my life for the last thirteen weeks. I’m ebbing and flowing with what comes my way. Sometimes I still break down and cry on my way home but those sometimes are far less often than they use to be.
I’m starting to feel that I’ll get through this, I’m not yet sure of where I’m going, but happy to be aware of the love and support around me.
Sometimes everything falling apart does not have to be the end.